


But Where Have All the Wings Gone?

by Gort, sunalso



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Parcheesi, Wingfic (buffalo-style)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 13,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: There are no buffalo wings to be found in all of Sunnydale and Spike is miserable. Once again it’s up to Buffy to save the day, even though she really doesn’t have time for this. Co-authored with Sunalso.





	1. You're Letting Us Down, Gary

**Author's Note:**

> Half written by Gort and half written by Sunalso: Entirely ridiculous. 
> 
> Here lies a cautionary tale about what happens when you start writing while hungry, then send that chapter to your beta who immediately writes a follow up.
> 
> (odds=Gort, evens=Sunalso)

“You’ve got to help me.”

 

Buffy looked up with her usual customer-service smile that quickly turned into a scowl. “Spike!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?” The Day-Glo orange outfit she had to wear somehow always seemed worse when someone she knew was looking at her. Not that Spike’s opinion mattered. About anything. Her eyes drifted down, taking in the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest and wondered for possibly the millionth time why it had to be this guy—the formerly-murderous vampire without a heartbeat or a soul—that made her remember how to feel. She was a sick, sick Slayer. 

 

Spike leaned across the counter, his hands gripping the edge until his knuckles turned white. Buffy found herself growing concerned despite the fact that she’d sworn to never care about this particular monster. She furrowed her brow. “What’s going on?” Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. “Is it Dawn?” Buffy was already tossing her hat aside and preparing to leap over the counter when Spike shook his head.

 

“No! No, she’s fine. Least she was last time I caught a glimpse. Not like anyone keeps me up to date on her anymore.” Spike’s lower lip stuck out in a way that would have been adorable on any other man. A living man, anyway.

 

Buffy sighed and her shoulders slumped. “What, then?” Her eyes narrowed. “If this is some scheme to-“

 

“You have wings here, right?” Spike interrupted, his expression hopeful.

 

“What?” Buffy blinked at him, nonplussed. “Uh, yeah?”

 

Spike’s entire body slumped in relief. “Great, great. I’ll take three, no, five orders of the biggest size. Buffalo style please.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Spike.” She punched the appropriate buttons on the cash register, noticing with dismay that she already had most of the layout memorized. Spike was fiddling with something in his pockets and watching her from under his eyelashes like he thought she wouldn’t be able to tell what he was doing.

 

“So, uh,” Spike started. “How’s your night going?”

 

Buffy was trying to decide if anyone would notice if she popped him in the nose when Gary came out of the back. “Uh, Buffy? We’re out of wings, sorry.”

 

Spike’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

 

Buffy lifted an eyebrow as Spike leaned over the counter and got in Gary’s face. “What the bloody hell do you mean you’re out of wings? This place represents the worst in American excess! You wankers throw away more food than you sell! How the hell are you out of wings!” Spike’s eyes started to turn yellow and Gary looked ten seconds away from wetting himself.

 

“Spike,” Buffy sighed. “I’d ask what’s wrong with you, but I don’t have all night. We’re out of wings. Deal with it.”

 

Spike glared at her, darting a suspicious glance at Gary as the kid fled back to the kitchens. Buffy could hear her co-worker exclaiming something about calling the cops on a crazy person out front and dropped her head into her hand. “You don’t understand,” Spike said urgently. “It’s not just you, it’s all over town.” He turned his head suddenly. “Oh, well that’s just fantastic. Gary the snitch is…snitching.” Spike frowned and looked a little confused at his own lack of cleverness, making Buffy raise the other eyebrow.

 

“Ok, seriously, what’s going on?”

 

“It’s the whole sodding town!” Spike exclaimed. “It’s a spell or a curse or something!”

 

“What’s the whole town?” Buffy asked, trying very hard to not lose her temper.

 

“There’s no wings!” Spike’s eyes were wide and desperate.

 

Buffy pressed her lips together in a thin line and counted to seven before she ran out of what was left of her patience. “Grow up, Spike.”

 

Spike slumped over until his entire upper body was covering the counter, his black leather coat spreading out on either side of him. The man who was waiting in line behind him took a step back, eyeing the vampire warily. At least someone in this town had a brain, Buffy thought. “I’m telling you, it’s a spell!” Spike’s voice was muffled, but not muffled enough. The guy behind him turned around and scooted out the Doublemeat Palace front doors before Buffy could even greet him. The stupid vampire was going to make her lose her job. Buffy glanced at the clock.

 

“Fine, meet me out back in ten minutes. And I swear to god, if this is some kind of joke, you’ll be dust in the parking lot.”

 

Spike lifted his head, his eyes shining with what she really, really hoped weren’t tears. This was getting ridiculous. “Yeah?”

 

Buffy had a feeling she was so going to regret this. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that Dawn would be really mad if she dusted Spike. “Yeah.” 


	2. Chocolates Would Be Nice, Too

_10 minutes later…_

Buffy put her hands on her hips and watched Spike as he paced back and forth in front of the DMP’s dumpster. He was puffing on a cigarette and glowering like Angel had just shown up with roses for her. Not that Angel had ever brought her flowers, now that she thought about it. Just Angelus, and those had been creepy, I’m-stalking-you flowers. Wasn’t she the kind of girl who looked like she would want to be given flowers?

She put a palm to her forehead. “Would you stop with the pacing? You’re making me dizzy.”

Spike halted. Instead, he starting rolling his cig from one corner of his mouth to the other using just his lips and tongue.

Buffy found herself tilting her head to the side. _So that’s how he_ …she shook her head. “Now, what’s wrong? And you know what, go back to pacing.” He might make her dizzy doing it but at least she could think.

Spike narrowed his eyes at her and his feet stayed planted. “Make up your bloody mind, would you?” He dropped the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stomped it out. Buffy sighed in relief. “I went to the Bronze needing a shot or two, maybe something to kill to protect the dumb little kiddies, and a plate of wings.”

She nodded. Sounded like typical Spike. Buffy frowned, suddenly imagining him sitting alone. Sometimes those waitresses could get awful chatty. She bit her lip as her fists tightened with the sudden urge to punch something. Because…uh…because she hadn’t been out on patrol yet. That was it. Slayer that needed to patrol here.

Spike tapped out another cigarette and stuck it between his lips, making her roll her eyes. He lit it with a flick of his lighter and took a deep breath. Her eyes narrowed in on how his lips pursed as he inhaled. It was a lot like…

“Do you have to smoke in front of me?” she snapped.

“What? I’m telling a story here. Now listen up because this is the important part, yeah? There were no wings.” Spike looked grave.

“And your point?”

“I’ve been to every bloody place in Sunnydale I can think of and not a single one—not one!—had any buffalo wings.” He blinked rapidly, like he was trying to keep tears at bay.

“And you not getting to eat wings is my problem how?” Buffy sighed. She should probably get home to Dawn…only wasn’t Dawn staying over at a friend's house tonight? There’d been something about Buffy not needing to bring home dinner.

“Because you’re the Slayer and this is obviously an evil curse, or spell, or…or…can’t you do something?” He looked so hopeful that Buffy caved. Stupid desire to be a stupid hero.

“How about we go to the grocery store? We can buy some and put them in the slow cooker at my house. They won’t be ready for a couple of hours but we can watch a movie or something.”

She ignored his leer.

“Or something sounds good,” he purred. He did something with his tongue that made his cigarette go from dangling between his lips to tilting up so that the cherry was pointing nearly at the sky.

Her eyes went wide. “Um, I meant like play Parcheesi.” She spun on her heel and stormed off in the direction of the grocery store. She felt…she felt…ugh! Why did it have to be him?

After a few blocks, she glanced over at the vampire, who was casually strolling beside her.

“Something on your mind, Slayer?” he asked.

Buffy opened her mouth to tell him to shut up, but that wasn’t what came tumbling out. “Have you ever bought a girl flowers, Spike?”


	3. Spellcheck, Aisle Three

There was a crowd in the frozen food section of the grocery store. And not a normal crowd. Buffy’s jaw dropped as she took in the half-dozen demons staring morosely into an empty freezer. There was a piece of paper taped to the front of the clear glass door.

“No,” Spike whispered hoarsely. Buffy rolled her eyes. Jeez, you’d think buffalo wings were his lifeblood or something instead of just…lifeblood. Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust. Ugh, sometimes Spike was so annoying he was like a real guy instead of a vampire, but she couldn’t forget he was a terrible monster. Or he would be, if he wasn’t all chipped up and tame. Without that they probably wouldn’t be doing…um, that thing he did to her that one time. Ok, fine, lots of times.

Buffy scowled at the nearest demon just in case it could hear her thoughts. It didn’t look like a telepathic demon but she could never be too careful. It stared back at her blankly before recognition dawned in its flat, black eyes. “Slayer!” it squeaked in a high-pitched voice completely at odds with its hulking body. Buffy blinked as the aisle suddenly emptied, with one exception.

“Clem?” Spike said. “Please tell me it’s not…”

Clem shook his head sadly. “All out.”

Spike staggered to the side of the aisle and propped himself up on the freezer containing ice cream. Buffy’s mouth watered for a moment as she calculated how much money was in her bank account and if she could afford some Ben and Jerry’s without having to forgo the water bill. Her calculations came up short so she sighed sadly and averted her eyes.

“Hey, Clem.” She lifted a hand. She didn’t know the demon well, but apparently he was harmless and she was seriously too worn out to kill anything right now. Besides, she was pretty sure he was Spike’s only friend.

“Hi, Slayer.” Clem stared sadly into the empty freezer. Buffy moved beside him so she could see the paper.

“Sorry,” she read aloud, “this item has been backoddered.” She frowned. “Backoddered?”

Spike was making sad, snuffling noises behind her that she was trying very hard to ignore.

“Backordered,” Clem said solemnly. “I asked. They don’t know when they expect the next shipment.” Spike let out a muffled sob. Buffy took a deep breath and told herself she wasn’t going to care, even if it sounded like his heart was breaking. They were just wings, for god’s sake! “Uh,” Clem looked over her shoulder wearing an expression of deep concern. She thought. It was hard to tell with all those extra skin flaps. “Is Spike okay?”

“He’s fine,” Buffy replied, just as the vampire slumped against her back and settled his head into the crook of her neck.

“Why, pet?” he sniffled. “Who would do such an awful thing?”

Buffy turned and found herself with an armful of pathetic vampire. At least he smelled good. A lot better than her, actually. She found herself angling her face so her nose was partially buried in his hair. She was seriously going to have to steal whatever he was using in it. “We’re, um, just going to go.”

Clem was staring at the empty freezer case again. “Okay, bye.”

Buffy dragged the vampire out of the all-night grocery store and headed for home. She briefly considered dropping his mopey butt in his crypt but maybe there really was something to this whole buffalo-wing-curse issue. Possibly. And also the house was empty which meant she could shower for as long as she wanted, maybe even with company.

She glanced at Spike. His arm was draped over her shoulders so he could lean on her and his face was the textbook definition of depressed. It was kind of weird, actually. She was so used to dealing with his cocky attitude that this version of Spike was freaking her out a little bit. Mostly because she was starting to worry about him when there were a million other, more important things for her to worry about first. Like if she was ever going to get this greasy smell out of her hair, for one thing.

“Come on, Spike,” she said more gently than she meant to. “Let’s go home. I need to change   
and then we can hit up Willy’s.”

“You’re really going to help?” Spike sounded so hopeful it almost made her feel guilty for not caring. Because she didn’t.

“Yeah,” Buffy sighed. “I guess I really am.” She seriously hoped she didn’t regret this later.


	4. Don't Drop the Soap

The house was empty.

Thank god.

Since Buffy was going to have illicit sex with an evil demon that she really shouldn’t be doing anything of the naked variety with, ever.

But once she made up her mind that maybe just one more time was okay then every part of her body got all hot and tingly. And she wanted him now.

Buffy dragged Spike inside the house. She pulled him up the stairs while he remained uncharacteristically quiet. Actually, he’d been silent since she’d agreed to check out Willy’s with him. With a frown, she left him leaning against the wall while she collected her bathroom stuff.

She grabbed her shampoo and body wash, a couple of towels, and a loofah.  Buffy had decided to use the shower in the bathroom off the master bedroom. There was just something wrong about having really...wrong sex in the same shower that her teenaged sister used.

Making a face at the grease stink, that Buffy was sure permeated even her pores, she stripped off her DMP uniform and left it on the floor of her bedroom. After wrapping herself in a towel she walked past Spike and into Willow’s bedroom. She set the shampoo and bodywash down on the floor of the glass-fronted shower and realized she was alone.

Huh?

“Spike?” she called.

“You ready to head to Willy’s?” his voice filtered back from the hallway. What the hey? Okay, this buffalo wing thing was starting to get on her nerves. Spike should totally be drooling all over her and making innuendos. She walked back to the hallway.

He was leaning against the wall, staring down at the toes of his boots. Was that a…tear, on his cheek?

Buffy suddenly had very clear vision of finding whoever was responsible for the wing shortage and punching them into oblivion. Spike always put her first. She did not want to play second fiddle to an appetizer.

The towel hit the floor.

Spike stared at his feet.

She cleared her throat.

He didn’t budge.

“Spike,” she barked.

Blearily, he looked up at her and his eyes went wide.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his head.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Are you going to help me wash my hair or does the lack of wing snackage make more than your face limp?” She turned on her heel and marched back to the shower.

She started the water and had just gotten it to the right temp when a very naked vampire collided with her and pushed her against the back wall of the shower. Her breasts were smushed against the cold tile and something very not-limp was nestled between her buttocks.

Buffy moaned and rolled her body.

With a grunt, the vampire knocked her feet wider apart. He bent his knees and positioned his cock at her entrance before surging deep inside her with a single hard thrust. Spike paused as she sagged against the wall. The warm water was hitting her side and running in rivulets down her skin.

There was the was the sound of a bottle squeezing and then Spike’s hands were buried in her wet hair. As his hands massaged her scalp, Spike’s cock slid out and out of her body in a hypnotic rhythm. When her thighs started to quiver, one of his hands left her hair and descended to rub frantic little circles over her clit.

She came with a shout, her inner muscles strangling Spike’s cock and making him groan. He pulled out, turned her around, and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and sank down onto his shaft. With one hand on the wall for balance, he moved them so they were directly under the spray from the showerhead. As the water rinsed away the shampoo for her hair and sent suds cascading over their bodies, Buffy shut her eyes tightly and buried her head against Spike’s neck. She refused to do anything but feel.

She felt the slip of his hands over the skin of her back. The bunching and strain of the muscles in his shoulders. The overwhelming pleasure of the glide of his cock in and out of her body.

Her hands fluttered against his neck and a low moan escaped her throat as she came again. For a few seconds nothing existed at all but the urgent pulse of her pussy around his shaft.

Buffy gasped and came back to reality.

Spike was pounding desperately into her. His whole body shuddered and he peaked with a hoarse groan. When he was spent he lowered her down and she turned off the water.

With a gentleness she wanted to punch him for, but was too worn out to protest, he wrapped her in a fluffy towel and helped her dry off. She collapsed forward onto the comforter on Willow’s bed.

Spike sat down beside her. “So who’s the limp one now?” he purred.

Buffy groaned. “Are you still worried about the wings?”

“Well, of course. You should be too. Something is seriously wrong with this town.”

“Besides that it’s on the hellmouth and you live here?”

There was an indignant snort from Spike’s general direction.

“Oh fine,” she said. “Just give me ten minutes."


	5. I'll Have the Usual

_Ten minutes later…_

 

“You look like you’re feeling better,” Buffy observed as she and Spike strolled down the street, heading for Willy’s. She was feeling a lot better herself, probably just because she was all clean and non-smelly and not for…other reasons.

 

“Got the Slayer on the case now, don’t I?” Spike said, sounding more cheerful than she’d heard him all night. “You do-gooder types always manage to ruin evil plots.” He turned to her and produced the shadow of a smile. “Plus, I get to enjoy a bit of vicarious violence.” The edges of his mouth turned down again. “Even if it’s not the same without any wings.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. Apparently she wasn’t going to rank above stupid freaking buffalo wings on Spike’s mental list of important things until she got to the bottom of this ‘curse’ or whatever. He even forgot to hold the door for her at Willy’s and Buffy almost ran face first into the edge of it as it closed. She barely managed to stop in time and then had to pull the door open herself.

 

This was getting out of hand. First, Spike doesn’t even notice that she’s naked and now he was forgetting she was even there at all? Forget the flowers, how about just some common courtesy? Buffy scowled at the back of the vampire’s bleached blond head as he settled onto a bar stool. Oh, she was going to hang up these wing thieves by their own intestines.

 

She smacked her hand on the bar, making Willy jump. “Uh, hey Slayer.” Willy glanced at Spike and then back at her. “What brings you by?”

 

“Wings,” Buffy said grimly.

 

Willy’s eyes widened and his face paled. “We don’t…uh, that is, we’re out. But I’m sure we’ll get some in so-” Willy’s sentence ended with a choking noise as Buffy reached over the bar and grasped the collar of his shirt. Spike’s head hit the bartop with a thunk and a sad exhalation.

 

“You and the rest of the town, Willy. Where are they, huh? Who the hell is hoarding all the damn wings!” She had enough crap to deal with without Spike flinging himself off a cliff because he couldn’t get his stupid wings. And sure, maybe what she was doing with him was totally sick and wrong but it was really a great stress reliever and she was nothing but a big ball of stress lately.

 

“Stressed, huh?” A weird, internal voice asked in her head. A yellow demon standing on her other side turned to look at her. “Parcheesi’s great for that. Does Spike play?”

 

Buffy glared at him “Get out of my head,” she hissed. He slunk off, pouting.

 

“Uh, Slayer,” Willy choked out. “Not that I mind having you here, but…”

 

Oh yeah, the wings. Buffy turned back to the matter at hand. “Shut up, Willy.” She shook him once for good measure, trying to figure out what to do next. Spike perked up a little, lifting his head off the bar and propping it up with one hand while he watched her. “Where do your wings come from?”

 

“I’m not giving away my supplier!” Willy sounded scandalized. “I’ve got enough competition as it is in this burg.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Seriously? They’re wings, Willy.”

 

Spike was starting to droop again, his chin quivering. Buffy yanked Willy partially over the bar and got as close as she dared to his face. His breath was rank. Spike so owed her big time. “Spill or I kill all your customers.”

 

“You do that anyways!” Willy squeaked.

 

“Then I’ll tell them you decided to turn this place into a vegan restaurant.” She turned around, Willy still in her grasp, and opened her mouth.

 

“Wait!” Willy gasped. “I’ll get you an invoice!”

 

Buffy let go of him and waited impatiently while he straightened out his shirt and yanked a battered ledger out from under the counter. He grumbled under his breath as he flipped through it, shooting her dark looks between pages. Spike was slumped over the counter and idly tearing apart a beer coaster that looked like it was advertising something related to tentacles. Buffy decided she didn’t want to look any closer.

 

Finally, Willy handed her a half-sheet of paper and scowled, crossing his arms. “They said they’re having trouble keeping up with demand, that’s all.”

 

“Huh.” Buffy shot Spike a concerned glance out of the corner of her eye. “Thanks for being useless, as usual, Willy.”

 

Willy looked pleased. “Anytime.”

 

Buffy carefully folded up the piece of paper he’d given her and slid it into her pocket. “Ready, Spike?” The vampire sighed heavily and slowly got up off his stool, looking like he was feeling every one of the dozen or so decades he’d been alive. It was really starting to freak her out.  

Buffy bit her lip and tried to give Spike a reassuring smile but his sad frown didn’t budge. Buffy furrowed her brow and turned back to the counter. “Uh, hey, Willy?”

 

The man turned back towards her. “What now?”

 

Buffy managed to land a punch to his nose before he’d finished getting the sentence out, pulling it just enough to make it hurt without breaking anything. Willy howled in indignation and pain as she sailed out of the bar with Spike. The vampire was almost smiling, and this time he remembered to hold the door.


	6. Empty Freezers in Empty Warehouses

The place that supplied Willy’s, and apparently everywhere else in town, with chicken wings of all kinds was named ‘Wings-R-Us’. Buffy quirked her lips to the side. It wasn’t really a very stealthy name. She probably could have just looked it up in the phone book instead of beating it out of Willy. But that would have required thinking and how was she supposed to think after…washing her hair?

Everyone knew cleanliness was next to Godliness, not thinkiness.

Spike was positively beaming as he surveyed the line of refrigerated trucks pulled up outside the neat and trim warehouse. “There’s got to be acres of freezers in that place. Reckon they’d notice if we nicked a bag or two?”

She suppressed a sigh. Had he forgotten she was the Slayer and therefore a bastion of purity and goodness? That didn’t include stealing things. Or doing other things for that matter. She really shouldn’t do those things ever again, no matter how much she wanted to. Buffy opened her mouth to remind Spike that she didn’t steal, but at the same moment he turned to her, a flower in his hand from one of the white rhododendrons that decorated the space in front of the Wings-R-Us entrance.

Grinning, he tucked the flower, which hadn’t quite closed up for the night, behind her ear and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Beautiful,” he rumbled in that ridiculously sexy voice of his. Maybe she should have made him read the phonebook out loud instead of going to Willy’s.

She held up a finger. “One bag.”  

“Fine, fine,” he said.

Spike easily broke the lock on the door and let them in. Buffy belated realized that breaking and entering was also something upstanding citizens didn’t really do. At least they had a reason, since she had to figure out this mystery before the entire demon population of Sunnydale turned out in revolt. Or Spike forgot that she existed.

Like now.

He’d taken off running to the first freezer, a huge industrial affair with a stainless-steel door. He wrenched the door open and the look of glee on his face slowly drained away. “Empty,” he whispered.

The next ten were the same.

As she thunked the last freezer door closed, Spike slumped in defeat, sliding down the side of the freezer to sit on the grooved pavement of the floor. He dropped his head into his hands and his shoulders started shaking. Awkwardly, Buffy crouched down beside him and patted his shoulder.

“What are we-“ he started.

“Hush,” Buffy hissed sharply. She’d heard something. Holding her finger to her lips, she crept in between two of the giant freezers. There was an office with the light on and the door cracked. Someone was humming.

Spike managed to pull himself together and, after he dabbed at the thing he’d gotten in his eye, he slipped into gameface. Buffy pulled out a stake. Whatever was in that office wasn’t human.

With a snarl and a yell they barged through the door.

“Oh!” barked the portly and very non-threatening demon that was sitting at the metal desk inside. He looked between Buffy and Spike with a frown. “Can I help you?”

“Uh…” Buffy stammered.

Spike’s human mask slipped back into place. “We’re looking for wings, mate,” he said coolly.

With a grating noise, the round demon, who was short, balding, and sporting a pair of suspenders, pulled his chair back up to his desk. “I wish I could help you but we’re all sold out. The rest of the boys took the night off since there were no deliveries to make. We’ll have more in a week or two, maybe three.”

The demon rolled a pair of dice and Buffy frowned down at the top of the desk. “You’re playing Parcheesi?”

“Yes!” the round demon exclaimed. “It’s very relaxing. I thought everyone knew that.”

Spike growled and brought his fist down next to the board, making the markers jump.

“No need for violence, sir,” the demon chided.

“But where,” Spike’s eyes flashed gold, “have all the wings gone?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” The demon rolled the die again. It looked like he was playing all four player positions himself. After moving a marker, he grabbed a post-it note and jotted down an address. “We’ve been making increasingly large deliveries to this address. This last time they cleaned us out and now we’re backordered. It takes time to raise chickens, you know.”

Spike took the post-it with a huff and stomped out of the office.

“Is it really relaxing?” Buffy asked wistfully, looking at the Parcheesi board.

“It is Slayer. Here.” The demon opened a drawer on his desk and handed her a copy of the game still sealed in plastic.

“Wow, thanks! We might have it at my house but I think my sister lost half the pieces.”

“No problem. And don’t let the vampire cheat, because they always try.”

Buffy left the office, smiling down at the game in her hand. Behind her, she could hear the demon grumbling about the Slayer’s obnoxious pet vampire.

Buffy looked back towards the office with a grimace on her face. Spike was so not her pet anything.

She looked around the warehouse. Where had he gone?

“Spike!” she called. “Spike, get back here this instant.”

The vampire loomed up out of the dark. “I’m right bloody here. No need to yell. This address is back in the residential part of town so we’re going need to get a move on. It's already pushing midnight.” He looked at the box she was tucking under her arm. “What you got there? Party favor from the desk jockey?”

“He gave me a copy of Parcheesi. I thought maybe you could teach me how to play. You do know how, right?”

“I do.” His lips crept up into a smirk as they walked towards the exit to the Wings-R-Us warehouse. “Do you know how many spaces are on a Parcheesi board, luv?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, and quit calling me that. Like I’ve asked you approximately three billion times.”

“Sixty-eight.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, you do me and I’ll owe you one.”

Buffy exhaled loudly through her nose. “Pig! Spike, you’re a pig.” He continued to smirk, though he did hold the door open for her. She caught sight of her reflection in the glass. The white flowers were still firmly in place.

It made her wonder what other activities they could survive.


	7. Parcheesi Lessons

Buffy squinted at the paper in her hand and checked the street sign they were standing next to. “I think it’ll be faster if we cut behind the minimart.”

Spike bounced a little on his toes, his expression eager. “Yeah? Let’s go then.” He practically dragged her down the street and into the alley that led to the next main thoroughfare.

“What do you think they need all those wings for?” Buffy asked curiously, trying not to stumble. How come Slayer powers didn’t come with better night vision?

“As long as there’s some left, I could give a flying fig.”

“No, seriously.” Buffy reached up to stroke the soft petals of the flowers in her hair. “Who needs an entire warehouse-worth of buffalo wings?”

Spike glanced at her, seemingly amused. “And here I thought you didn’t care, Slayer.”

“I care!” Buffy said defensively. “I mean, I care that something suspicious is going on. Not about anyone—anything else.”

Spike halted mid-stride and turned to meet her embarrassed gaze. Whoops, she really needed to start thinking before she spoke. She was just really tired, probably. She nervously bit her lower lip and tried to look nonchalant, tapping her new board game against her thigh with one hand.

“That so?” Spike practically purred, taking a step towards her. He’d really perked up since they’d gotten the address where the wings were being delivered. She shouldn’t have let her guard down. Darn him and his stupid…flowers! Buffy glanced around but no convenient, distracting gang of vampires wandered through the dark alley. What the heck kind of town was Sunnydale becoming, anyways? You’d think alleys on the hellmouth would be full of nothing but vampires. She eyed Spike. Of the non-chipped and dustable variety, she amended.

“Um,” Buffy found herself with her back against the brick wall of the alleyway while Spike hemmed her in with his hands braced against the wall behind her. The black leather of his coat swung out, partially hiding her from anyone who might be watching. “What are you doing?”

Spike leaned in a little closer, his lips grazing her ear. “Just thinking about what we’ll do after we find those wings. All that…Parcheesi.” One of his hands dropped to her hip and he hooked a finger into the waistband of her jeans, pulling her close. The hard line of his erection left very little doubt as to what he actually meant.  

Buffy felt a shiver work its way up her spine as her nipples tightened under her shirt. The Parcheesi game slipped from her nerveless fingers and hit the ground, the rattling loud in the silent alley. “Are you going to teach me how to play?” Buffy asked, her voice a lot breathier than she really meant for it to be. It was a little flattering that even now, deep in the buffalo wing crisis of ’02, Spike still wanted her. Ok, fine, a lot flattering. And he’d even seen her in that awful DMP uniform earlier.

“If you like.” Spike’s smile was predatory. “But you know my terms.”

Buffy’s hands betrayed her, straying down to Spike’s belt buckle and then lower even as she was trying to make her expression more disapproving than eager.

Spike’s other hand cupped the back of her head as he pulled her in for a kiss. Buffy moaned into his mouth while her hands worked to free their prize. She really did want to learn how to play Parcheesi, she rationalized. After all, didn’t she deserve a relaxing hobby? Besides, even though this thing with Spike was…immoral or whatever, it was too late to worry about it today.

Her busy fingers finally freed his erection as she dropped to her knees and wasted no more time. She sucked his cock into her mouth, tracing the vein on the underside of it with her tongue. Spike let out a low groan above her, bracing himself against the wall of the alley with one hand while the other twisted into her hair.

Buffy paused, her lips still around his straining erection, and reached up to make sure he hadn’t dislodged her flowers. They were thankfully unscathed. She returned to her task with renewed vigor, listening to the appreciative noises Spike was making. It was nice that she never had to guess what he liked. Although, now that she thought about it, there really didn’t seem to be anything he didn’t like. If only all her boyfriends had been this easy. Not that Spike was her boyfriend!

Buffy put a hand on the vampire’s hip as his movements started getting a little erratic, her other hand stroking in tandem with her mouth as she swirled her tongue around his cock in the way that always made him gasp. Her lips quirked up slightly when she heard the expected sound, followed closely by a moan that sounded like a mangled version of her name.

Buffy pulled back a little in anticipation as Spike’s hips jerked and he came into her mouth. She swallowed, trying to keep up with his release, and opened her eyes, proud at how quickly she’d brought him to climax. Her thighs quivered in anticipation of her repayment after they finally found the damn buffalo wings.

Spike sighed above her and carefully pulled his fingers out of her tangled hair. She could feel him smoothing it down before she regained her feet. She reached up a hand to check it. “Are my flowers…?”

“Perfect,” he rumbled, his voice slightly hoarse. “Still perfect, luv.” He started refastening his jeans.

Buffy sighed in annoyance at the pet name, but let it go this time. She was pretty sure that was a losing battle, anyways. “Let’s go find your wings.”

Spike grinned at her and made an expansive gesture with one hand as he finished buckling his belt. “Ladies first.” He leaned down to scoop her game off the ground and handed it to her before taking her free hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He was whistling a happy tune as they left the alley and Buffy didn’t even try to hide her smile.


	8. Flower Child

Hand in hand with Spike, walking down the sidewalk, Buffy was amazed to find that she…felt. And it wasn’t sadness, or anger, or shame, or…her steps were light, there was no weight dragging down the pit of her stomach, her heart was content, and the corners of her mouth were turning up of their own accord. She had the sneaking suspicion that she might be happy. That was slightly terrifying and she clutched Spike’s fingers tighter.

Spike was oblivious to her fear and gently swung their joined hands. He looked so happy, damn him and his ability to have regular emotions.

At that moment, as they walked by a three-way intersection, Buffy happened to glance behind them and see a very familiar car approaching. With a started ‘eep’ she pushed Spike into the shadows created by a dilapidated awning. “Kiss me!” she demanded. With a shrug he complied, his lips soft on hers. Buffy held up the Parcheesi set to further obscure their faces.

It was just her luck that the light turned red and the car she’d seen had to stop. The noise of the engine idling was loud.

“Isn’t that Buffy?” Willow asked, her voice floating out of the car’s open window.

Spike’s chuckle tickled against her mouth and Buffy had to bite his lip to get him back under control.

“Who?” Xander’s voice was bored

“That girl that’s making out with some guy in the shadows.”

Xander huffed. “No. That’s some hippie. She’s got flowers in her hair and probably believes in free love, peace, and other ridiculous things. Also Buffy wouldn’t let some guy grope her in public while holding a copy of Parcheesi.”

“You’re right. She’d be too busy fighting demons.”

The car drove off and Buffy risked turning around.

“Your mates don’t know you that well, do they?” Spike put a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the sidewalk.

“Shut up, Spike,” she grumbled. It was tempting to go after her friends and make them explain why she couldn’t be the girl that…relaxed while playing Parcheesi. Damn it.

The rest of the way to the house that the demon at the wing supply place had given them the address for was spent in silence. Buffy found herself missing the Spike’s obvious happiness and her maybe-happiness that’d existed before they’d seen Willow and Xander.

Now Spike was sighing heavily and shuffling his feet as he walked while she had her arms crossed and was frowning at the damp patches on the knees of her favorite jeans.

The house itself was Sunnydale’s usual flavor of suburbia and did not look like the kind of place you’d expect a warehouse full of wings to disappear into.

“We should be ready for anything,” Buffy whispered. She tucked the Parcheesi board more securely under her arm.

“Yeah,” Spike grunted.

He really was being no fun. “Hey!” she said brightly. “I bet they’ve got at least a few bags of buffalo wings left. And since they’re probably evil we can just kill them and take them, no problem!”

The vampire tilted his head and looked down at her. Finally, the harsh lines of his face softened. “Yeah. I bet they do. Let’s go kick this thing’s ass and heat up some wings. Maybe they’ll even have some blue cheese dressing to go with.”  He held his hand out to her and Buffy slipped hers into it.

“Now remember, absolutely anything could be behind that door,” Buffy reiterated as they climbed the porch steps.

Spike cracked his neck. “Bring it on,” he growled and Buffy did the non-Slayer thing of almost swooning. Or maybe it was because she was the Slayer and fighting did odd things to her libido? Or… she squished that thought away for examination sometime on the twelfth of never and rapped on the door.

There was the sound of another door slamming and some harsh whispers. She clenched her fists, ready to let them fly at whoever had been stealing buffalo wings from her vamp…from her boy…from Spike.

The door opened and a short kid with blondish hair stood there, hands clutched together in front of him as he stared owlishly at her.

“Andrew?” she sputtered.


	9. The Wonder Twins

Another familiar head peeked out from behind Andrew’s shoulder.

“And Jonathan?” Buffy asked incredulously.

Jonathan’s eyes widened as he ducked back down behind Andrew. “Say something!” she heard him squeak.

Andrew jerked forward like something had just jabbed into his back. “Ow! Hey, I bruise easily,” he whined. “Um, can I help you?” Andrew’s eyes darted anxiously back towards the interior of the house.

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know, can you? What the heck do you guys need all the buffalo wings for?” She eyed Andrew’s slender frame. “And don’t even try to tell me you’re eating them all.”

Spike was standing next to her just glaring at Andrew, apparently content to let her do the threatening for the moment. It made her feel almost proud.

“Oh, um, well…” Andrew snuck another nervous glance over his shoulder and then his entire face lit up. “It’s an experiment! I mean, we’re conducting one. A very important, science-type of experiment.”

Buffy crossed her arms. “Yeah? About what?”

Andrew’s face fell and he leaned back a little as the top of Jonathan’s head reappeared and they had a hurried, whispered discussion. Spike rolled his eyes and sighed, making Buffy almost smile for the first time since she’d spotted Xander’s car. 

“You guys know Spike can hear you, right?” Buffy examined her nails. The fryer had been hell on her hands last week but she was on register for the next few shifts. Maybe she deserved a little pampering. Plus, she’d gotten that totally great glittery silver polish last week on a whim and hadn’t used it yet. It would look fantastic with her favorite leather pants and Spike would totally…wait, she was supposed to be getting to the bottom of whatever idiocy Andrew and Jonathan were involved in. 

Andrew looked amazed. “Really? I didn’t know vampires ha-ow! Stop poking me with your magic bone, Jonathan!”

Buffy dropped her head onto one hand and groaned as Spike snorted a laugh. “You have ten seconds to spill the beans before I start breaking your bones, magic or not.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Andrew blurted out. “It was-” A loud roar drowned out the rest of his sentence, seeming to come from inside the house. Buffy’s eyebrows shot into her hairline and Andrew turned to Jonathan, looking frantic. “Gotta go!” The door slammed shut, almost catching the end of Buffy’s nose.

“Hey!” Buffy jerked her head back. She was seriously not having any luck with doors tonight. Spike looked as insulted as she felt. “Well, that was totally rude.”

Spike stepped up next to her and tried the doorknob, but it seemed to be locked. “Think I ought to have a talk with them about how to treat a lady,” he announced. “May I?” He gestured at the door.

Buffy felt something foreign flutter in her chest. Sure, maybe Spike was a complete pig sometimes, but he really did know how to make a girl feel special. “If you want,” she replied.

Spike’s smile was devious as he kicked in the door and knocked the pieces of it aside to clear her path. “So, what do you reckon they’ve got holed up in here? Another troll god?”

Buffy made a face. “Jeez, I hope not. I’d feel kind of bad killing one of Anya’s ex-boyfriends.”

“Hey! We’re never going to get our security deposit back now!” Jonathan exclaimed as they barged into a large livingroom that looked like a nerd’s wet dream. Buffy wrinkled her nose at the poster on one wall depicting a half-naked alien woman.

Andrew stumbled back into the room, his face even paler than normal. “There’s only one bag left.”

Jonathan’s mouth worked without sound for a moment and then he turned to Buffy. “It was all totally Warren’s idea.”


	10. Score One for the Demon

“I wouldn’t worry much about the bloody deposit,” Spike said, eyeing the tackily decorated living room. His eyes stayed on the alien pin-up poster a few seconds longer than Buffy approved of.

“Why’s that?” Andrew squeaked as he backed towards the house’s less-than-modern kitchen. The olive color of the appliances was making Buffy’s teeth itch.

Spike shrugged a shoulder. “I walked in, didn’t I? The owner must be dead.”

“Not Mrs. Crawshoot!” Andrew’s face crinkled up. “She was our Mrs. Hudson!”

Jonathan put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “She was also ninety-five with gout, diabetes, chronic bronchitis, heart disease, hypertension, kidney stones, and a bunion. You know this, she told you all the time.”

“It’s still sad!” Andrew wailed. Jonathan nodded in commiseration.

Buffy huffed and gave poor Mrs. Crawshoot a good half-second of silence. “So where are the wings?”

“Um, we don’t really have enough to share.” Jonathan paled.

Spike was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Sod this.” He swept past a startled Andrew and Jonathan. “C’mon Slayer, let grab-n-go. We can take ‘em back to your place. I still got a lot more to teach you about how to play Parcheesi.”

“Oh!” Andrew looked at the box under her arm. “Parcheesi! I hear it’s very relaxing.”

Buffy frowned at him.

“Andrew,” Jonathan hissed. “They can’t take those wings. They’re the last ones.” He looked around nervously. “Ethay emonday isway ungryhay.”

“I know the demon is hungry!” Andrew loudly whispered back. Jonathan rolled his eyes.

Buffy threw her hands up and followed Spike into the kitchen that had last been updated sometime before Nixon was president. The vampire was standing in front of the fridge, one hand on the freezer door. If she didn’t know better she’d think he was praying.

Finally, his fingers gripped the handle to the freezer.

His muscles tightened.

A loud, ear-splitting roar shook the house. Buffy jumped and yelped and Spike spun away from the fridge and wrapped his arms protectively around her. He was vamped out and growling. And if, just for a few seconds, she leaned against Spike because he felt safe, well, no one else ever needed to know.

The roar didn’t repeat itself and finally Buffy had to push herself back from Spike. She marched into the living room, grabbed Andrew, and slammed him against the wall. “Jonathan said something about Warren being responsible? Where is he? What’s going on?”

“Um, we have to feed it or it gets m-m-ad,” Jonathan stammered.

Andrew nodded frantically. “Warren got ahold of an egg and wanted us to raise the demon inside so that it could, um, kill you?” He didn’t sound too sure.

Spike’s fist smashed into the wall beside Andrew’s head. “Where’s Warren now?”

“Uh.” Jonathan backed away from the angry vampire and Slayer. “The demon kind of ate him.”

Buffy groaned. She’d really wanted to punch Warren. Entirely because he’d brought a dangerous demon to Sunnydale and not because he’d made Spike that stupid bot. Thinking about the bot sort of made her want to punch Spike, too. Or kiss him. The impulses sometimes felt the same. Though to be completely honest, either one would probably turn him on.

There was another roar from the basement.

Buffy dropped Andrew. “You better show us this demon.”

Spike poked her arm.

“And ‘splainy about the buffalo wings, too. Even Spike doesn’t eat that many.”


	11. They're Undecided About the Eagles

“See, Andrew-” Jonathan started.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Andrew protested immediately. “I told you that rug was a safety hazard!”

“It really tied the room together!” Jonathan shot back.

“Well, it tripped me!”

“I can’t believe you were serving her wings on a plate!”

“How was I supposed to know you’d just been throwing them in there!”

“You would have known if you hadn’t been so scared of her you refused to go into the basement for a week.”

“Well, it turns out I was right, wasn’t I? It does eat people!”

“Only when their so-called friends dump an entire plate of buffalo wings on them and knock them into the demon’s room!”

“It was an accident!” Andrew wailed.

“Oh my god,” Buffy huffed impatiently as another loud roar shook the house. “Get to the point!” She carefully set her Parcheesi game on the yellow Formica table to keep it safe.

“It’s like…a meat-eating demon?” Andrew said nervously. “The book said it liked buffalo especially, so Warren bought one from this guy but…” He gulped and looked queasy. “Have you ever seen any videos about how they kill cows and stuff?” He shuddered dramatically. “I’m thinking of becoming a vegetarian.”

“I thought I smelled livestock,” Spike said thoughtfully.

Buffy’s mouth dropped open. “You’re feeding it whole buffalos? That’s awful!”

“No!” Jonathan shook his head frantically. “It’s, uh, that’s where the wings are going.”

“The buffalo’s out back,” Andrew added.

Spike stared at them both incredulously as Buffy’s brain made the connection. “Wait, you guys know buffalo wings aren’t actually made out of buffalos, right?”

Andrew blinked at her in confusion and Jonathan looked insulted. “It’s right in the name!”

“That’s because…no, I don’t have time for this.” Buffy turned to Spike. “Ready to kick some demon butt?”

Spike’s face lit up. “And then wings?”

“Of course,” Buffy said indulgently. After all, he was going to help her kill this buffalo-wing-hogging menace. And teach her how to play Parcheesi. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to have him around a little more often. She touched the flowers in her hair briefly.

“Be careful,” Andrew said, wringing his hands. “It’s really mean.”

“She’s just a baby!” Jonathan put his hands on his hips. “It’s a phase! After she learns how to…”

“It’s not going to learn anything!” Buffy said. “Stay here.” She whirled on her heel and marched over to what she hoped was the basement door. If it turned out she was standing in front of the pantry or something her dramatic exit was so going to be ruined.

Andrew and Jonathan both scurried around to the other side of the flimsy kitchen table like that could hide them from whatever was in the basement. Well, at least it looked like she’d picked the right door. Spike frowned next to her and leaned in close like he was listening. Buffy looked at him questioningly. “Can’t tell where it is down there.”

“Watch out for the rug!” Jonathan called.

“Oh, hey, if you see my Gameboy, can you-” Andrew started. He closed his mouth with a snap when Spike turned to glare at him. Buffy suppressed a smile. She and Spike really did make a pretty good demon-fighting team.

“On three?” Buffy asked. Spike nodded as his vampire mask slipped into place. Buffy took a deep breath and kicked open the door. It made a satisfying crash but other than that, the basement was eerily quiet.

“Eat all my buffalo wings, will you?” she heard Spike mutter as he swept past her into the dark basement, flipping on the overhead lights for her. Buffy rolled her eyes and descended the stairs, pulling out a stake and hoping it’d be enough for whatever was chowing on an entire town’s worth of buffalo wings.


	12. Daddy Knows Best

Buffy bit her lip. Jonathan had totally been right. The rug really did tie the room together. Not that a nerd-den full of beanbags, a hand-me-down sofa, and ten-year-old television sets had a whole lot going for it, but the rug helped.

Spike, still in gameface, was pacing restlessly back and forth. There was a demon down here somewhere. Buffy wrinkled her nose. Well, a demon besides the one that she was…going to be learning how to play Parcheesi from.

Judging from the roaring earlier she’d expected something the size of a city bus to be living in the basement. Obviously, she’d been wrong. “Maybe you’re scaring it,” she told Spike, who glowered at her.

After a few seconds, his human features slipped back into place. “Am I supposed to ask if it wants to cuddle?” he growled.

“No, I guess not.” Buffy frowned, because the idea of Spike cuddling some random demon made her stomach feel off. She reached out a hand and put it on his chest, just to steady herself.

There was yippy bark from behind her. Buffy snatched her hand back and turned to face the threat.

The tiny, tail-wagging, big-eyed…threat?

Buffy squealed. “It’s so cute!” She bent down and held her hand out, but Spike grabbed her and hauled her away from what must have been all of two pounds of demon.

“Stop!” he hissed. “It’s an infant Malsato demon. An underfed infant Malsato demon.”

“But it’s itty-bitty!” she cooed and the demon, who looked like a black and white Chihuahua puppy, wagged its tail enthusiastically. “How could you possibly eat so many wings, you cute widdle bay-bee?”

Spike ran a hand over his face. “It exists mostly in another dimension. Christ, I should have realized when they said buffalo.”  

The Malsato rolled over on its back and wiggled.

Buffy couldn’t help herself. She scooped up the demon and rubbed its belly.

Spike gawked. “Uh…”

“Allie here isn’t going to eat me, is she?” The demon licked her face, making her giggle. “Who’s the cutest demon ever?”

“I…well…I guess it thinks you’re its mum, since you’re the first female it’s seen. And as much as I hate to say this, we should probably let it eat the buffalo in the backyard. Unlike the wings that should satisfy it for a week or two, giving us enough time to track down its parents. They’re probably frantic, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Buffy beamed at him. Shifting Allie to one arm, she checked to make sure that her flowers had escaped unscathed from all the loving the Malsato had been giving her. “If you say so, I don’t want Allie to be hungry.” She held the demon up and kissed its nose. “Did you hear that, Allie-kins? Daddy said you need to have your dinner.”

Spike’s eyes went wide. “Daddy?”

“Uh-huh,” Buffy said absently as she brushed by him, missing the look of shock on his face.

Andrew and Jonathan cowered back as she swept through the kitchen. Allie growled at them.

In the backyard was the saddest looking buffalo she’d ever seen. It looked older than dirt and half-dead already. Buffy reminded herself that she routinely ate hamburgers and that this wasn’t really any different.

“Do we have to kill it first?” she asked Spike, who’d followed her outside.

He was lighting a cigarette. “Nah, she’ll know what to do, just put her down.”

“Spike!” Buffy barked and he fumbled his lighter. “You can’t smoke around a baby.”

“Christ, woman,” he grumbled, but tucked the cigarette behind his ear.

Gently, Buffy set Allie on the ground then turned around. There was silence, a few seconds of intense noise, and a scratch at the back of her leg. Spike was flabbergasted, his mouth hanging open.

Buffy scooped Allie up. “What a good girl! And you didn’t even make a mess!” There wasn’t a remaining drop of blood or tuft of fur to be seen. “But I think you scared Daddy. C’mon, let’s get him his wings and go home so we can put you in your beddie-bye.” She grabbed the lapel of Spike’s duster and hauled him back into the kitchen-that-time-forgot.

Handing Allie to a stunned Spike she rescued her Parcheesi game from the table and opened the freezer, grabbing the last remaining bag of buffalo wings in all of Sunnydale.

“Um, what’re we supposed to eat later? ‘Cause we kind of spent all our money on the wings,” Andrew asked weakly.

“I’m sure you have a stash of Mountain Dew and Cheetos somewhere in this house.” Buffy shrugged. “Oh, and your Gameboy is on top of the T.V. by the red beanbag chair.”

Andrew beamed at her. “Thanks! It’s been a week since I played Metroid Fusion. Y’know, Samus is actually a lot like you, only with a power suit, and she doesn’t have a cool vampire sidekick.”

Jonathan winced.

“Uh, thanks?” Buffy glanced over at said vampire sidekick, who was currently tenderly stroking a very sleepy Allie.

“Ready to go home?” he rumbled. She nodded and smiled at him. “You hear that?” he whispered to Allie. “Mummy’s all ready to go home and tuck you in so that Daddy can teach her how to play Parcheesi.”

“It really is very relaxing!” Andrew called after them as they picked their way over the smashed door and headed for the sidewalk.

Buffy pretended she hadn’t heard him.

 


	13. Wings Are a Go

The walk home was surprisingly calm. No vampires (other than her sidekick, and she was so going to tease him about that later) wandered by; nothing evil or gross accosted them; her new game of Parcheesi was safely tucked under her arm along with a bag of buffalo wings, and Allie was nearly asleep in Spike’s arms.

Buffy slid her free hand into the crook of Spike’s elbow and leaned her head against his shoulder, listening idly as he quietly sang a song she didn’t recognize to the adorable baby demon they were suddenly responsible for. Allie blinked her sleepy eyes and let out a huge yawn that was quite possibly the cutest thing Buffy had ever seen.

“How big do they get?” she whispered.

Spike sent her an amused glance. “We can’t keep her.”

Buffy let her lower lip sneak out a little but Spike just continued on with his strange lullabye, which seemed to consist of something about rice and soda and… “Oh my god, Spike!” Buffy hissed quietly, nudging him with her elbow. “You can’t sing that to a baby!”  

“She’s from a hell dimension, luv, pretty sure she knows the word.”

“Oh.” Buffy hadn’t considered that. She watched Allie’s eyes slide all the way closed as the little demon finally succumbed to sleep.

Spike shifted the fluffball in his arms to one side and settled an arm over Buffy’s shoulders. “Think we can still make those wings tonight?”

“Sure,” Buffy shrugged. “I don’t work until late tomorrow.”

Spike sighed and tugged on a lock of her hair. “Wish you didn’t have to go back at all.”

Buffy’s heart skipped a beat. Of everyone she knew, he was the only one who seemed to get how little she actually wanted to work at the DMP.  “I have to,” she whispered, letting her head settle back against his shoulder.

“I could…”

“No, Spike, I have to learn how to take care of myself.”

The vampire was silent as they walked up the porch steps to her house and Buffy let them in the front door. He looked around, frowning. “Guess we’d better figure out something for the little one. It’ll be too bright up here for her come morning.”

Buffy gave him a little smile. “Takes after her Daddy, huh?”

Spike snorted and headed for the kitchen. “Could say that, I suppose. Want me to take her to my crypt?”

“And leave her there alone?” Buffy gasped. “Spike, she could get hurt! We’ll make her a nice little place downstairs.”

“Here?” Spike looked at her in surprise.

“She’s all full now, so she’ll be a good girl. Won’t you cutie-patootie?” Buffy cooed at the sweet little demon asleep in the crook of Spike’s arm. “And that way we can keep an eye on her. Now, why don’t you see what you can find down there while I work on dinner.” She set her game and the wings on the counter, quickly locating the crockpot and dumping the wings in while Spike headed down into the basement with Allie.

By the time she got downstairs Spike had already found a nice big cardboard box and several old blankets, creating a makeshift nest. He was leaning over and scratching behind one of Allie’s fuzzy ears, making the little demon sigh in her sleep. “Night, Allie,” Buffy whispered over Spike’s shoulder, tugging him away.

“But…” Spike glanced back worriedly.

“She’ll be fine,” Buffy patted his arm as they went back up to the kitchen. “If she’s anything like me after Thanksgiving she’s going to sleep for a week. We’ll check on her in the morning.”

Spike perked up a little. “Speaking of food…”

“Your wings are cooking. Want to teach me how to play Parcheesi while we wait?”

Spike’s scarred eyebrow lifted and the smirk he gave her was positively evil. Which made sense, she supposed, since he was evil. Mostly. Sometimes. Buffy frowned, trying to remember the last time he did something actually evil and not just kinda bad or mostly idiotic. She was drawing a blank.

“Happy to, Slayer,” Spike purred, picking up the box. “First, we’re going to need a spot to set up the board.”

“The living room? Or, um, my room?” She bit her lip and blushed. “In case someone comes home and we’re in the middle of a game,” she added hastily.

Spike was already halfway up the stairs.   


	14. The One Where Spike and Buffy Play Parcheesi

Shaking her head, Buffy followed Spike upstairs.

In her room she found Spike lounging on her bed with his shirt off. She shook the gamebox at him. “I said Parcheesi, and give me two seconds to freshen up.”

In the bathroom she quickly brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair, and put on lip gloss. The flowers came out from behind her ear and she set the stem in a dixie cup full of water. Tomorrow she’d set them on her window sill. After staring in the mirror for a minute she added mascara. There, now she looked a little less like she’d been tromping all over Sunnydale for most of the night. Not that she needed to get prettied up for Spike. He was just Spike…but, damn it, she liked when he realized she’d made an effort for him.

She peeked into her room. Spike wasn’t on the bed.

What the hey?

Frowning, she walked into the room. He was sitting on the floor, shirt back on, setting up the Parcheesi board and determinedly not looking at her.

“What color do you want to be?” he asked.

She plunked her butt next to the board on the opposite side from Spike. “Uh, blue, what about you?”

“Green.” His voice was bland. She decided he was being an idiot, since it had seemed the entire night that him teaching her to play Parcheesi had been code for ‘having hot sex’. Maybe he hadn’t realized she’d been teasing him a moment ago. Stupid vampire.

He handed her one of the dice. “Roll. Highest number goes first.”  She got a three and he got a six. Taking back the die Spike rolled both of them. He got a five and a three. “Since I got a five I can move one of the markers from my home base to this spot here, see?”

Buffy nodded.

“Then, since I got a three as well, I can move it three spots.” He tapped out the three spaces, still not looking at her.

This wasn’t relaxing at all.

“Your go,” he said, dully.

She rolled the dice. A four and a two. “So I can’t do anything because I didn’t get a five?”

“Right.”

“That’s dumb.”

“It’s the rules.” He shrugged.

“Well, screw the stupid rules.” She launched herself across the board and into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her lips found his. He was stunned for a second, then eagerly kissed her back.

“Thought you wanted to learn to play Parcheesi,” he said when she came up for air.

“I thought you realized that when I said that I actually meant I wanted to have a bunch of sex.”

“Yeah?” he growled.

“Yeah.”

Smashing his mouth back into hers he yanked her shirt off, and then his own. Buffy moaned as she rubbed the hardened tips of her nipples against the planes of his chest. Spike threaded a hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head. His other arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

Buffy undulated her hips, rubbing herself frantically against the hardness in his jeans.

He pushed her onto her back, right on top of the Parcheesi board, sending the dice and markers flying.

She didn’t care.

He stripped her jeans and panties off and undid his belt and fly. She couldn’t help licking her lips as she watched his hands. Pushing his jeans down just far enough to free his cock, he half fell on top of her in his haste.

Buffy giggled. Rolling his eyes, he hovered nose-to-nose with her. She put her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

“What does Mummy want?” he whispered against her lips.

“For Daddy to hurry up and screw her!”

Grinning, Spike tilted his pelvis and rammed himself home inside her. She squealed and clawed at his back.

He gave her what she wanted, pounding into her hard and fast. A grunt escaped him with every thrust.

It felt good, so damned good. She could never get enough of him. Her head was thrashing side to side as her hips whipped up and down to keep pace with him.

Her hands snuck down to clutch at his ass as the tension in her stomach and thighs increased.

“Let go, luv, Spike’s got you,” he said against her ear. She fell apart at his words. Her inner muscles clamped down tight as she came. The world narrowed until nothing existed but the feel of his cock sliding in and out of her pulsating channel.

“Spike,” she said weakly, collapsing back against the floor. “Spike.”

“Shh, that’s a good girl.” His head dropped and he buried his face against her neck. The rhythm of his hips became jagged, staccato beats. “Buffy!” he cried against her neck as he came. “Oh, god, I…I love you.” It was a strangled sob.

Buffy had the vague notion that she should shove him off, as his weight settled against her. She should probably tell him that he couldn’t love her. Though some part of her whispered that he couldn’t love her not because he was a soulless demon, but because she was unlovable.

But it was awful easy to ignore that voice when she was so relaxed and half smothered with a vampire that loved her so much he was trembling with it.

Stupid voice, what did it know?

The first scent of buffalo sauce from the cooking wings wafted into her room.

Spike’s head shot up and his nose twitched. “How much longer do you think before they’re ready?”

“What? A while. It’s called a slow cooker because it’s slow.” Apparently like him, because, oh, hell no. He was inside her and still worried about the stupid wings?

She didn’t feel so sated anymore.

Tightening her muscles, she reversed their positions, so he was the one laying on the Parcheesi board. With a huff she swiped her hands along her thighs, knocking off a blue marker from the game that’d gotten stuck there. It went pinging under the bed and she hoped she’d remember where it was later, much later, when she actually wanted to play the game.

Spike was looking wide eyed at her. She swiveled her hips with a huff and his cock started to harden again inside her. “I’m not done with you yet, Daddy,” she growled. His cock sprung to full attention.

That was more like it.

She was bound and determined to play Parcheesi until her thick headed—she moaned as Spike bucked up into her—vampire figured out exactly how relaxed she needed to be.

Then he could eat his damned buffalo wings.


	15. Wind Beneath My Wings

Buffy cracked open one eye as the arm under her shifted. She thought about moving to her bed but she was so darned comfy. “What time is it?” she mumbled. Spike didn’t answer, instead pulling her closer and hooking his knee over her legs to prevent her from moving. “Spike,” she half-heartedly attempted to free herself, but gave up after realizing her limbs were so relaxed they were pretty much useless. “We should check on the baby,” she whispered.

Spike muttered something against her temple before she felt him press a brief kiss there. Buffy tried and failed to think that was anything but completely adorable. Still, she really should go make sure Allie wasn’t ingesting the contents of the basement. Plus someone was bound to say something if they walked into her room and found her naked with Spike. And they probably wouldn’t fall for the ‘just playing Parcheesi’ line.

“I have to close my curtains,” she tried. Spike lifted one hand, snagged the edge of her comforter, and dragged it down to cover them both. Buffy let out a tiny giggle she hoped the vampire wouldn’t notice, but her hopes were dashed a moment later when she felt Spike’s grin against her shoulder.

“Seriously, we have to get up,” Buffy said. No response. She let her hand wander down the taut muscles of Spike’s abdomen, tracing the shape of one hip. Spike didn’t move.

“The wings are probably ready,” she whispered against the pale skin of his shoulder. The comforter went flying and Buffy suddenly found herself alone on the floor, watching a pale shadow dart out her bedroom door. “Spike!” Great, now her friends were going to find a naked vampire in her kitchen.

Buffy sighed and managed to pick herself up off the floor, only wobbling a little. She dug out her favorite pajama pants and slipped them on, along with a cute camisole, before grabbing Spike’s jeans off the bedroom floor. The grey light of dawn was just filtering in through her bedroom window.

“Spike,” she admonished, shaking his pants at him as she entered the kitchen. “Seriously, you can’t just…” she stopped, lifting her eyebrows.

Spike was holding a plate piled high with wings and leaning against the counter while he ate one, his face the picture of ecstasy. He had a smear of sauce across one cheek and his fingers were orange. He opened his eyes and smiled happily at her before holding out a wing. “Want one, luv?”

Buffy decided that maybe just this once he could stay over. Besides, he seemed to know a lot about how to take care of the cute little demon in the basement. She supposed it took one to know one.

“No thanks, you go ahead,” she said generously, peeking into the crockpot on the counter. The wings were a little more than halfway gone already, she noticed. “Do you want to save these ones for later? The guy said it was going to be a while before they got another shipment in.”

“Nah,” Spike said between bites. “I reckon I can drive a couple towns over tomorrow night and find some more.”

Buffy frowned in confusion. “Uh, why didn’t we just do that last night?”

Spike lifted one eyebrow and slowly sucked the sauce off of his fingers in a way that made her already exhausted legs tremble in anticipation. His jeans slipped from her fingers and landed in a heap on the floor. “There was evil afoot, Slayer, figured you’d want a crack at stopping it.” He carefully set his plate of wings aside and stepped closer to her, his hands sliding under the edge of her loose top and edging upwards. “Now, where were we?”

“We’re in the kitchen,” Buffy said weakly, bracing herself against the countertop as her knees threatened to give out. “We really shouldn’t…”

A tiny, whimpering cry stopped them both in their tracks. Spike frowned. “Was that…?”

Buffy was already heading for the basement door. “Mommy’s coming, pumpkin pie!” she called. Spike was hopping along behind her, struggling to get into his pants.

“How is she awake already?” he grumbled, stumbling down the stairs a moment later. Buffy reached into Allie’s makeshift crib, making soothing noises and picking up the adorable ball of fluff to cuddle. The little demon stopped whimpering immediately.

“I think she got scared,” Buffy replied, rocking Allie gently. The baby demon’s eyelids were already drooping again. “Were you lonely down here, sweetpea?” she cooed.

Spike sighed. “Want me to stay with her? You should get some sleep. I’ll sneak out after the sun goes down.”

Buffy glanced up at the vampire and took in his resigned expression. She realized with sudden clarity that she infinitely preferred seeing him happy. It gave her hope that maybe someday she’d remember how to be happy too.

“I think there’s a cot behind those boxes.” Buffy nodded at a corner of the basement and she and Allie both watched as Spike silently unearthed and set up an old cot against one wall, well away from the windows. He dragged Allie’s box closer to it before sitting down on the edge and holding out his hands.

“Here, hand her over and I’ll get her settled.”

Buffy walked to the cot, but instead of passing Spike the demon baby she sat down next to him. “Scoot over,” she said quietly. “She might need her Mama, too.”

Spike’s eyes widened and she saw something spark in them that made her heart swell. Spike carefully laid back on the rickety cot, his long legs stretching out so his feet dangled over one end. He turned on his side and watched as Buffy lay down beside him, nestling Allie between them. Spike settled one hand on her hip as Buffy scooted a little closer.

“Can you-” Buffy didn’t even have to finish her sentence before Spike’s arm was in the perfect position to cradle her head, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. “Perfect.”

“Yeah?” She heard the wonder in his voice. Allie chose that moment to wiggle up and enthusiastically lick Spike’s chin, making him chuckle. Buffy watched them both, feeling more content than she had in a long time.


	16. Clever Girl

Buffy’s eyelids fluttered open. Had there been a noise?

Allie, still tucked in between her and Spike, was uncurling herself and stretching. That must have been what woke her up. “Hey, Allie-Belly,” she said, scratching behind the little demon’s ears.

Spike stirred. He smiled when he opened his eyes to find her and Allie cuddling.  The demon gave a squeaky bark and tried to climb over Buffy.

“Do you need to go outside, baby girl?” Spike asked.

Ugh. That sounded like getting up. “It’s Daddy’s turn to take you,” Buffy said, ignoring the fact that her nuzzling against Spike’s shoulder made it difficult for him to go anywhere.

“Mm, nope, should be Mummy’s.”

“What the hell is going on here?” yelled a voice. It took Buffy a moment to recognize it as Xander. Oh, damn. She’d forgotten to tell him Dawn wasn’t here and therefore didn’t need a ride to school. She sat up on the edge of the cot with Allie in her arms.

Allie growled.

“Um…” Maybe if she didn’t say anything about the half-naked vampire they’d all just pretend nothing was happening. “It’s a baby,” she said lamely.

“You and Spike had a baby?” Xander seemed completely unable to lower the volume of his voice.

“Christ, turn off the air raid siren,” Spike grumped, putting an arm over his eyes.

“Er, it’s a demon,” she tried to explain to her flustered friend.

“You and Spike had a demon baby?” Xander had reached shrill several octaves ago.  He turned and shouted up the stairs: “Willow, Tara, Anya, get down here! Spike and Buffy had a demon baby!”

“What’s Tara doing here?” Buffy frowned.

“She needed to get some of her things,” Willow replied, coming down the steps to stand beside Xander. Her mouth dropped open. “Buffy! You had a demon baby with Spike and didn’t tell us?”

Spike sat up beside Buffy on the cot and raked his hand through his hair.

“I did not have a baby, of any kind, with Spike. We haven’t been sleeping together long enough for me to have…erm…” she trailed off as her words fully registered in her brain. Xander, Willow and now Anya, who was halfway down the stairs, all went wide-eyed.

“No getting that cat back in the bag,” Spike chuckled. He plucked a wiggling Allie out of Buffy’s hands and deposited her on the floor. She made a beeline for Xander.

Buffy snapped her mouth closed before it could get her into any more trouble.

Xander looked ready to faint as Allie sniffed at his shoe and then calmly piddled on it. “Spike, your baby just peed on me.”

Spike shrugged. “She’s a smart girl.”

“Oh!” Anya blinked out of her stupor. “Is that a Malsato demon?”

“Yeah, we found a couple of gits that had her stashed in their basement.”

Anya took a step back. “Uh, has she…Xander, you might want to move away…”

“It’s okay.” Buffy stood and went to scoop up Allie. “She had an actual buffalo for dinner last night. Didn’t you my widdle Allie-girl?”

Anya visibly relaxed.

“We’re looking for her parents.” Spike stood, stretched, and slipped an arm around Buffy’s waist. She thought about pushing him away, but since her friends already knew it seemed a waste of effort. Instead, she leaned back against his chest. “Do have any way to get the word out, Anya?”

The former demon nodded thoughtfully. “Let me make a call.” She headed back upstairs, passing Tara, who was carrying the Parcheesi box.

“Hey,” Tara said, looking only mildly surprised to see Buffy holding a baby demon while being cuddled by a shirtless Spike. She held up the game. “I was walking past your room and saw this on the floor. I found all the pieces, even though one of them had rolled under the bed.”

“Uh, thanks.” Buffy felt herself blush as Spike dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“Were you guys playing Parcheesi?” Tara asked. “I’ve always heard it’s very relaxing.”

Buffy elbowed Spike just as he was starting to say something. “It is very relaxing,” she quickly replied. Her face flushed hotter. “Super relaxing, the relaxing-ist.”

“I think they’ve got the idea, pet,” Spike said with a laugh as he rubbed her shoulders.

“Okay, wait,” Willow blurted out. Everyone stared at the witch. “Buffy…is Spike your boyfriend?” The gazes all shifted to Buffy.

She looked up at Spike. A smile was still ghosting over his lips, but his eyes belied how nervous he was. Buffy thought about the entire night: how he’d come to her for help, how it’d upset her to see him sad, how much fun it’d been figuring out what had happened to the wings, how he’d looked when he’d tucked the flowers behind her ear, how good he was at playing Parcheesi. With a smile, she hooked a finger in a belt loop of his jeans and tugged him closer. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

Spike appeared even happier than when he’d been eating the wings.

“Hey!” Anya called down the stairs. “The baby’s parents are going to be here in an hour or so. And they’re bringing cash. A lot. They’re rich even by Malsato standards and really happy you rescued their baby.” The amount that Anya, of all people, would consider a lot of cash had to be an astronomical amount.

Buffy had visions of burning her DMP uniform right in front of the store. But even as she imagined no longer juggling the water versus electricity bill, her eyes went to the drowsy Allie in her arms. “Do you think we’ll still be able to see her?”

“Don’t see why not, maybe we can babysit.” Spike was a little misty-eyed, too.

“I need to get to class,” Tara said quietly. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

Buffy waved at her.

“And I need to go process, a lot, maybe with beer.” Xander grabbed Willow’s wrist and tugged the stunned witch after him.

“Xander Harris!” Anya’s voice carried into the basement. “You will go to work and not get drunk. And seriously, the only thing weird about Buffy and Spike is that it took them so long.”

The door slammed behind her friends as they left.

Spike shook his head and smiled shyly at her. No more Doublemeat Palace and a boyfriend that gave her flowers. Life did seem to be looking up.

“C’mon,” she said to the now grinning vampire. “You can eat the rest of the wings out of the slow cooker while we wait for Allie’s parents.”

Spike’s face lit up and he was up the stairs before she had time to blink.

“Oh, Allie,” Buffy said to the sleepy demon. “Your Daddy’s a silly one, but I think I might be in…well…we’ll see.”

Allie yawned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END. 
> 
> Thanks for coming along on this crazy ride! May you never run out of wings.


End file.
